


Tryin' To Wake Up to You

by shards_of_divinity



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23504956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shards_of_divinity/pseuds/shards_of_divinity
Summary: “Can’t believe you’re here sometimes,” Wade says after a moment, looking away from Peter’s gaze and focusing on the stove. His hands are still on Peter’s sides, thumbs drawing distracting circles just under the thermal and Peter’s muscles flutter at the light touch that toes the line between a tickle and a tease. He presses back against Wade, letting his head tip back for a moment.“I’m exactly where I want to be.”
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 135





	Tryin' To Wake Up to You

**Author's Note:**

> Just sweet, lazy Saturday morning fluffiness featuring Peter and Wade. Enjoy my first Spideypool fic!

**P** eter’s eyes flutter open and he sighs deeply. Wade’s still wrapped all around him; a leg slotted through his own, arm thrown over his waist, face pressed against his neck and Peter burrows in closer for a moment. He can tell from the light barely shining around the dark curtains that it’s late morning and there’s no rush to get up.

They fell asleep facing each other and Peter’s eyes rove over Wade’s face, not quite still even in sleep. His brow is furrowed, nose scrunched and Peter feels the arm around his waist tighten a bit. He reaches out and gently touches Wade’s temple and presses a lingering kiss to his forehead. The gentle touches rouse Wade and sleepy eyes blink at Peter before he’s gathered closer into Wade’s warm arms.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Peter mumbles, leaning in to kiss Wade’s upturned cheek as a smile spreads across his face. 

A deep rumble is Wade’s reply and Peter yelps as he’s pulled with Wade when he rolls over onto his back. 

“‘S too early….but I'm hungry." Wade mumbles and it makes Peter laugh. He presses his smile against Wade’s neck. “Sounds like you’re awake enough to eat," Peter teases. 

Fingers card through his hair slowly and Peter looks up to see Wade watching him. He shuffles up Wade’s body until they’re eye to eye before moving in for a kiss. It’s unhurried and soft, their lips nuzzling together while Wade’s hand cups the back of Peter’s head and Peter smiles against Wade's mouth

“I’ll make something for us,” Peter sighs against Wade’s mouth, not wanting to get out of bed at all. 

Hands settle on Peter’s hips and make to shift him to the side. “No baby, let me!” 

Peter playfully pins Wade to the bed with a breath of super strength, watching the way Wade’s pupils dilate and he gasps like always when Peter lets a bit of strength shine through. “I can cook too! Don’t you trust me in your kitchen?” Peter levels what falls short of a glare at Wade; knowing his eyes shine with too much mirth as he sits up and settles back down on Wade fully. “You always cook for us!”

Wade’s hand comes up to cradle his jaw and Peter’s heart picks up at the crooked smile that spreads across Wade’s face. “I love taking care of you, Pete.”

At that simple admission Peter feels his face heat and blinks his eyes against the emotions that swell in his chest. He turns his head to catch Wade’s palm with his lips to press a kiss to the center, murmuring back, “and I love you.”

They sit there quietly with soft and goofy smiles before Peter’s stomach growls. Wade laughs and the moment is broken; Peter nipping playfully at Wade’s fingers before swinging himself off the bed. He grabs Wade’s thermal shirt from its place thrown over the chair next to the bed, and steps quickly into his sweats from last night. The shirt swims on him but it’s warm and the look Wade gives him from wearing his clothing is worth it.

“Go back to sleep,” Peter says before slipping out of the bedroom, hopping a bit when his feet meet the cold hardwood floors and even colder kitchen tiles. He pauses at the thermostat to raise it a few degrees, and turns to take in the mess of game controllers, pillows, and pizza boxes sitting on the coffee table from the night before in the living area. A triumphant smile blooms over Peter’s face at the memories of finally beating the level he and Wade had been stuck on for a week, and then the intense pillow fight that he’d totally not cheated at by using his powers to keep Wade from knocking him off of furniture. The fight ended when he jumped into Wade’s arms, wrapping his arms around his neck and Wade had taken him to the floor; kissing him breathless. Lips had trailed from his mouth to his nibble along his jaw, trailing down to his neck to make the first of many marks still lingering on his skin. 

Peter blinks, a shiver running down his spine at the memory and he makes his way to his original destination; picking up his plugged-in phone from its place on the counter. He scrolls through notifications briefly and raises an eyebrow at how late they slept in; past ten in the morning. He steps over to the fridge, opens it, and looks through; humming and trying to decide what to make. 

There’s strawberries and blueberries and Peter sees a large carton of eggs pushed towards the back of the shelf. Further searching finds a bag of shredded potatoes. He pulls everything out and decides on making them and french toast.

He pokes through the cabinets and finds a pan for hash browns and then another cabinet holds the cooking spray. Peter is continuously surprised at how well stocked Wade’s kitchen is and smiles at the matching red and black spatula and tongs in the next drawer over. He lays everything needed out on the counter and grabs his phone to find a decent recipe. 

Peter’s had enough time to become a somewhat functioning adult who can handle simple breakfast dishes but he still likes an outline just in case. After scrolling through a much-too-long blog entry about a Christmas party and decorations he finally finds the steps and ingredients to make French toast, the most elusive one being the vanilla extract as he opens practically every door in the kitchen to find it. 

“Vanilla, vanilla, vanil--ah! Here we go.”

He slowly measures out the teaspoon and dumps it into a bowl, soon adding and of whisking eggs (he only had to dig shells out of the bowl twice, thank you very much!), glancing back at his phone where it’s webbed to the cabinet door at eye level. A bit of milk and cinnamon mixed in later and everything starts to smell amazing. 

Soon there are potatoes sizzling in the skillet and toast is on its way to becoming golden brown. 

He glances at his phone when an ad starts blaring and his neck twinges a bit. Thoughts of Wade’s lips, teeth tongue playing over his skin until bruises bloomed on his neck and collarbones slow his progress to the phone. Peter reaches up, fingers trailing lightly over those marks on his skin, and he can’t help but press lightly to make it ache anew in a faint echo of Wade’s touch. 

“Peter.”

At Wade’s voice, Peter spins quickly; cheeks darkening a bit at being ‘caught’ in his thoughts. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and Wade’s eyes track the movement, then Peter finds himself crowded against the counter, Wade filling his vision; hands holding him close.

“What are ya thinkin’ about, honey?” Wade mumbles against his hair before pressing a kiss against his cheek, lips trailing to his neck to the very spot Peter had been lingering on before. A soft nip follows the kisses, and Peter’s breath hitches; grabbing at Wade’s shirt as a shock of pleasure skirts down his spine. 

The hiss of steam brings Peter back to the present and he reluctantly pulls from Wade to look back at the stove. He hums and flips the toast, trying and failing to focus as more kisses trail along his jaw when Wade presses himself against Peter’s back. Two fingers curl under his chin and gently turn his head so their lips meet in a slow and sleepy kiss. 

“Hey,” Peter sighs against Wade’s lips, eyes fluttering open to see Wade watching him quietly with a loopy grin on his face. His face heats and his eyes dart between Wades as the grin softens into a fond smile. 

“Can’t believe you’re here sometimes,” Wade says after a moment, looking away from Peter’s gaze and focusing on the stove. His hands are still on Peter’s sides, thumbs drawing distracting circles just under the thermal and Peter’s muscles flutter at the light touch that toes the line between a tickle and a tease. He presses back against Wade, letting his head tip back for a moment. 

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” he replies and Wade wraps him in a full hug before reaching in the drawer for a fork to steal some potatoes.

“Hey!” Peter yelps, a quick shot of web stealing the fork and the bite of food Wade almost took. “No food till everything is done!” 

“Not faaaiir, Petey!” Wade whines loudly, grabbing another fork which Peter also webs away with a laugh. “You’ve clearly been goofing off on your phone instead of cooking,” he says, pointing at the phone still stuck to the cabinet door. “‘My boss still blushes about getting drunk at the Christmas party and knocking the punch bowl over, spilling punch on my wife to this day!’ What does that have to do with french toast?” 

“It took ages to get to the actual recipe! All I wanted was breakfast. No one wants to know about the secret Santa you had at work and how long you waited at Kohls for your gift card, Karen,” Peter says, making a show of wagging his finger at the screen.

“Now Petey, just because the Avengers don’t do secret Santa doesn’t mean you can be bitter. We can have our own Secret Santa this Christmas, okay?”

Peter scoffs and watches as Wade grabs plates and utensils. “It can’t be a secret if we’re the only ones participating. No surprise or guessing.”

“Don't underestimate the power of Christmas, babycakes. Just for your unbelief you’ll be getting coal.”

Peter hip-checks Wade who squeals and nearly drops the dishes before he deems the food done and turns off the stove. The potatoes are a bit too brown perhaps but they still smell amazing and the French toast is a perfect golden brown. 

“You trash talked Karen’s blog but look how pretty the food is! Almost as pretty as you.”

Wade drops a loud, smacking kiss on Peter’s shoulder and Peter turns around to press Wade against the island, caging him with two hands stuck to the countertop. He laughs at Wade’s shocked and pleased expression before pecking Wade on his cheeks, nose and finally finding his mouth.

It’s the perfect Saturday, waking up together and being playful, and Peter wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world. It somehow feels like they’ve been together forever and he never wants it to stop. He unsticks his hands from the counter and finds Wade’s forearms, trailing his fingers up until he can grip what he can of his large biceps. He blushes for probably the thousandth time at how 

Wade is, murmuring happily into the kiss as those arms come fold around him while the kiss deepens. Lips tenderly bitten, and a swipe of tongue against the tiny hurt turns into Wade cupping his chin to tilt Peter the way he wants him to take his mouth roughly. It turns all too hot for a brief moment before Wade pulls away.

“Are we eating breakfast or each other, Peter?” 

Peter hums and raises an eyebrow, heat flaring through him at the predatory look Wade gives him. “I worked too hard on this to let it go to waste.”

“Good point,” Wade nods sagely but still moves forward, tangling his fingers in Peter’s hair and pulling him in for one last kiss. A whimper escapes from Peter before he can stop himself and he winds his arms around Wade’s neck. His eyelids flutter when Wade’s thumbs find his favorite spot in the hollow behind his ears and presses. Peter gasps and their lips part with a soft and slick sound before they part to rest their foreheads together with deep breaths. 

Peter’s stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly again and Wade laughs, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead before moving away to grab dishes he set down earlier.

They work on stacking the toast on a larger platter with the potatoes tucked against it, the berries into a bowl before heading back to their bedroom. Wade opens the heavier light-canceling curtains to let in the sun and the room is bathed in warm light. Peter waits for him to settle in bed against pillows popped up on the headboard before stepping lightly on the bed and folding himself neatly right next to Wade, not an item on the tray out of place.

“Showoff,” Wade smirks before grabbing a plate and a fork. “Can I eat now ?”

Peter laughs and scoops potatoes and three pieces of toast onto Wade’s plate before grabbing the same and fruit for himself. He laughs as Wade drizzles an ungodly amount of maple syrup on his toast before grabbing the container and putting about a third of that on his own food. Everything tastes great and Peter smiles as they lean against each other and laugh, enjoying their food and each other’s company.

A drop of syrup lands on the front of Peter’s borrowed thermal. “I’m surprised I didn’t spill something before now,” he laughs at himself before setting his mostly-finished plate aside and shrugging out of the thick material.

No reply comes, and Peter glances over at Wade to see his eyes trained on him; a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Well, be careful honey. Looks like you spilled some more.”

Fingers shining with syrup reach for him and Peter laughs, letting them connect with his collarbone. He lets his head fall to the side, and glances down with a pout. “Hmm, suppose you’ll have to help me clean it up.”

Wade doesn't waste time and moves in quickly; tongue slowly licks at his skin, and hands grab Peter to move him into Wade’s lap, the tray pushed off to the side of the bed safely out of the way. Peter squeezes Wade’s shoulders and he presses a kiss to Wade’s forehead when he pulls away to grin at Peter.

“Did you get it all?” Peter laughs when Wade hums, "Let me check," and licks the spot again. Reaching over to the discarded plates Peter holds a strawberry to Wade's mouth, dragging the tip of it along his bottom lip. Right as Wade leans forward to take a bite Peter pops the fruit into his own mouth with a grin. He holds up another one and lets Wade take it this time. Peter chases a bit of juice left behind with his thumb and then swipes his tongue against the corner of Wade’s mouth lightly.

Wade's hand wraps around his forearm and gently turns Peter's hand until his wrist is bared between them. Lips are pressed against the center of his palm and trail along until Wade kisses Peter's spinneret lightly. It makes his fingers clench and Peter hums softly, another kiss making him sway where he's perched on Wade's lap. 

"I'll never get over how that gets you going, baby boy," Wade says with a smile, his eyes trained on Peter the entire time. Peter narrows his eyes but his face feels hot as Wade thumbs over his wrist and picks up a blueberry for him to bite into. Soon the fruit is finished and their lips press together in sweet, sticky kisses. 

There’s late morning sunshine spilling into their room coloring everything with bright shafts of light and Peter feels so content resting against Wade with all of the sounds of New York distant in the background. The only thing that matters in this moment is Wade stretched out in crumpled sheets and blankets with a relaxed smile on his face, trying to swipe more syrup onto Peter’s cheek. As he laughs and dumps a pillow on Wade’s face before tackling him and trapping Wade beneath him Peter doesn’t think a Saturday morning could be more wonderful than this.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and please let me know what you thought! <3


End file.
